


beat like a drum (tap away at my soul)

by orphan_account



Series: in love with you (so hopelessly and painlessly) [2]
Category: The Martian (2015)
Genre: Angst, Cuddles, M/M, Trouble Sleeping, figuring out shit, like always lmao
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-09-17
Updated: 2015-09-17
Packaged: 2018-04-21 04:44:42
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 796
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/4815536
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/orphan_account/pseuds/orphan_account
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Mark shrugs, “couldn’t sleep, Doc,” he pauses before sighing, “it gets lonely in my bunk.” He says quietly.</p>
            </blockquote>





	beat like a drum (tap away at my soul)

**Author's Note:**

> its not as good but whatever i mean and like this series is honestly random so you can read it in order or not!!

Mark can’t sleep.

And it fucking sucks.

He grumbles, pushing himself out of his bunk and padding out of the room to the kitchen area. The Hermes is deathly quiet and sometimes it almost scares him as he struggles to forget that he’s floating in space, thousands of miles away from Earth. He shakes that thought off and rubs his eyes blearily. He hasn’t been able to get a good rest for a while, but it doesn’t really surprise him. Mark considers asking Chris for help when he wakes up but decides against it.

Chris is only going to get more concerned just as he’s finally believing that Mark is falling into a routine. It would be a dick thing to do to break his bubble.

Mark realizes pretty quickly that he’s not the only one awake. Chris is standing by the cabinet, sipping from a mug and looking fucking wrecked.

“Hey.” Mark says cautiously, treading closer.

Chris looks startled, mug shaking in his hand when he sees Mark. He runs a hand through his hair and Mark looks away sheepishly.

“Didn’t mean to scare you.” He says quickly and Chris gives him a flustered laugh, “it’s all good, man.”

And then his expression changes into one of worry, brows furrowed and mouth curved down.

“Why are you awake, Mark?” He asks, touching Mark’s shoulder.

Mark shrugs, “couldn’t sleep, Doc,” he pauses before sighing, “it gets lonely in my bunk.” He says quietly.

He craves company. It’s almost borderline painful, being so alone and feeling so isolated when his crew are within a few meters of him. It’s confusing and hard to deal with alone.

Chris’s expression softens and he puts down his cup, smiling tentatively.

“I’m sorry about that, Mark.” He rubs Mark’s shoulder comfortingly and steps closer.

_Don’t, please. It only makes me want to kiss you more._

So Mark steps back, Chris’s hand falling back to his side. He looks fucking _hurt_. Mark regrets it almost immediately but he can’t take it back, not now.

Chris swallows, reaching for his coffee and taking several gulps and focusing hard on the floor of the ship.

“Why’re you awake, Doc?” Mark asks, throat feeling dry and hands feeling clammy.

He’s quite the fuck up, eh?

“Couldn’t sleep either.” He replies shortly, finishing off his coffee.

“You should go back to bed.” Chris continues, placing his mug on the counter and turning to walk away.

Mark knows he shouldn’t because it’s dumb and Chris might not want it but he can’t help but grab the doctor’s elbow, jerking him to a stop against Mark’s chest. He using his arm to turn Chris to face him, wrist twisted behind his back as he holds on. Their foreheads knock and Mark inhales shakily, nose grazing against Chris’s cheek.

“Please don’t leave me.” He murmurs, dazed.

Chris looks surprised, eyes wide and mouth parted. Mark wants to push away and laugh it off because godfuckingdammit he’s such an idiot, why can’t he control himself? but he feels glued to Chris’s body, unable to fucking let go.

“Mark,” Chris breathes, “I, I don’t --” He stops abruptly, fingers stretching out and palm pressing against Mark’s chest. His fingers clench around the fabric of Mark’s shirt, tugging him closer. Their noses brush.

“Oh,” he mutters, licking his lips nervously, tilting his head back.

“Chris, can I... He trails off, breath hitching.

_He wants to…_

“Oh, fuck, yes.” He only manages to say that much before Mark kisses him.

It’s so slow and tired, Chris responding with a lag. He feels drained. Mark prods Chris towards the counter, back touching it as he twines his hands through Mark’s hair, twisting closer. He swipes his tongue against Mark’s mouth, slipping into his mouth and moving gently.

They pull away, breathless.

“I’m sorry.” Mark says after a few seconds of silence. He doesn’t know why he’s apologizing but he feels like he should. It was such an impulse move that Mark honestly can’t figure out why Chris even kissed him back.

Chris gradually lets go of Mark’s shirt, tipping back because he’s locked into place with Mark’s body. He shuts his eyes, breathing heavily. His lips stretch into a slight smile, mellow and crooked and Mark just _melts_.

“You can come sleep in my bunk.” He says slowly, eyes flickering over Mark’s face. He leans away from Mark’s body, making his way out of the kitchen area.

Mark follows.

Chris’s bunk is warm and his body is solid, back pressed against Mark’s chest like a comforting weight. He smells like shampoo and apples and all the things right in the world. Or space. Whatever. Mark’s eyelids droop and sleep crawls up his spine, tugging him into the quiet lull of Chris’s breathing.

Sleepily, Mark smiles.

**Author's Note:**

> i hope you enjoyed and please do leave me feedback ! it'll be greatly appreciated :)


End file.
